


Short but not sweet

by sharkinterviewee



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Alien Biology, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Bite Kink, Biting, Bondage, Bottom Peter Quill, Crying During Sex, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dom Gamora, Dom/sub, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Gags, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, I love slutty Peter Quill way too much, Love Bites, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Needy Peter Quill, Needy submissive boys, One Shot Collection, Pain Kink, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Romance, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Smut, Strap-Ons, Sub Peter Quill, Subspace, Teasing, Top Gamora, Touching, Touchy-Feely, Wall Sex, Warm, body heat, desperate Peter Quill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-10-18 02:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17572190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkinterviewee/pseuds/sharkinterviewee
Summary: Starmora smut drabbles (focusing on some very hot sex with Dom Gamora and Sub Peter)Chapter 8 preview:She wants to be pissed at him for doing that. For scaring her so bad. For making her think she lost him. She wants to punch him first thing when she sees his scraped up face after she thought he just died. But instead, she patches up his wounds. She very much wants to threaten him to never do something like that ever again. She wants to hit him first thing, he scared her so bad.But she doesn't. Instead, she fucks him. As a punishment. That night. She fucks him hard and rough. Leaves bite marks all over his body. To teach him a lesson. He's already covered in bruises, but she knows he won't refuse a rough fucking. That's kinda the point.She's tried distancing herself before, from him, after he gets injured so seriously, but it never worked. So instead she gets close to him. Gets intimate with him. And fucks him hard, making him moan in pleasure and groan in pain.-Peter thought he'd be in the dog house that night, not getting fucked in the shower





	1. Use your words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “More specific than that,” she says, moving her head down his torso, gradually getting lower, kissing his hips. Peter looks down and swallows thickly. She's so close. Those lips, that mouth. He wants to feel her.  
> She has to bite her tongue to keep from chuckling at the innocent look of confusion and consternation on his face- something like _what do you want from me_ and _I'd literally give you anything_ with that hint of frustration but mostly earnest effort as he tries so hard to figure it out.  
> “I want you to use your words, Peter. Be direct. Say exactly what you want. No being vague. I won't touch you at all if you do. Tell me. Now.”  
> Peter stares at her, completely balking.  
> She can't help but smirk. She knew he would. Peter always talks in euphemisms. He talks around things, and he can never call something what it is for the life of him. The silver tongue sweet talker always has another phrase, another way of describing things.  
> Like their unspoken thing. He can never refer to things directly, everything is by another name, like it would kill him to call it anything but.

Gamora raises both of his arms above his head and pins him by the wrist, and Peter's back arches.

“Fuck, yes, Gamora, please,” he moans, arching even further into her body above his.

“What? You like this?” She asks teasingly, mock innocent, like this was just any old thing.

Peter nods helplessly.

“Tell me,” she orders, squeezing his wrists. “Tell me what it is you like me to do. What you want me to do. Use your words. Beg me.” Her fingers tighten around his wrists again, and the firm hold she has on him is doing things to his head.

“Please,” he whines. “H-hold me down, please, god, please,” he begs, writhing underneath her.

She bends down, her breath hot on the shell of his ear- it sends shudders down his spine.

“And do what to you?” Gamora whispers, following it up with licking a teasing stripe down his throat.

“Anything,” he breaths, wiggling, moaning in her grasp. “Whatever you want. Anything. Just- please, god, please fuck me.”

* * *

She teases him a bit more, going lower, her touch straying, driving him crazy.

“What do you want?”

“ _You._ ”

“I meant specifics, Peter,” she says, tapping his cock with her finger, and he lets out a strangled sound. He's so hard. He doesn’t immediately respond, but she gives his cock another bored tap tap, like she's waiting.

“Please,” he finally says, “Please, G'mora, I want you to touch me.”

“More specific than that,” she says, moving her head down his torso, gradually getting lower, kissing his hips. Peter looks down and swallows thickly. She's so close. Those lips, that mouth. He wants to feel her.

She has to bite her tongue to keep from chuckling at the innocent look of confusion and consternation on his face- something like _what do you want from me_ and _I'd literally give you anything_ with that hint of frustration but mostly earnest effort as he tries so hard to figure it out. It's such a cute look, just begging for a hint.

“I want you to use your words, Peter. Be direct. What part of you do you want me to touch? How do you want me to do it? With my hands? My mouth? Say exactly what you want. No being vague. I won't touch you at all if you do. No ‘beating around the bush’ as you say. Be _exact,_ Peter. Tell me. Now.” She orders, drawing shapes on his hip bone with her tongue.

Peter stares at her, completely balking.

She can't help but smirk. She knew he would. Peter always talks in euphemisms. He talks _around_ things, and he can never call something what it is for the life of him. The silver tongue sweet talker always has another phrase, another way of describing things. He practically talks in code. All his phrases and euphemisms. How he had to call the precipice of their relationship the cheering ratings and do this whole big rambly thing just to explain his convoluted metaphor that just made things murkier. He can never refer to things directly, everything is by another name, like it would kill him to call it anything but. He had a term or euphemisms for everything. Like their unspoken thing. She knew he'd have trouble with this. That he wouldn't be able to say ‘Grab my dick, Gamora’ or ‘Please put my penis in your mouth’. No, he had to go with ‘I want you’ or ‘touch me’, when she wanted more direct than that. Peter had plenty of terms and idioms and euphemisms for sex, but she wanted to force him to call things what they were right now. He's clearly uncomfortable with the aspect, of directly asking for what they both know he wants.

* * *

He reaches a breaking point. Eventually Peter gets so frustrated and fed up with her teasing and prompting him and not touching him and he shouts “God, just suck me off!”

“How?” She asks, smiling.

“With your mouth! I wanna fuck your mouth!” He's the picture perfect portrayal of desperation, just how she likes him. She likes making him flustered. Get him off his cool approach, turn him into a stuttering boy begging for release. “Lick it! Suck it! Just something! God, please do something,” he groans, futilely tossing his head back against the pillow. “Please. How many times do I have to say I'll do anything,” he begs weakly.

“Do anything but say a few simple words,” she mutters.

He's about to shoot back some scathing remark that comes from the depths of a mercilessly teased black hole of arousal, but whatever word he does start to say putters out on a moan when she wraps her lips around the head of his cock. She takes him in further, maybe only a quarter of his length though.

She pulls off him, “Tell me you love being teased,” she orders before sinking back on him.

“I love it. I do. Please, I love it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd start off with something light in terms of dom/sub, but don't worry, the chapters following this one will really be going balls to the walls with the submissive Peter Quill/Dominant Gamora, so just you wait


	2. Restrained (is it still pegging when she's holding the dildo with her hand and fucking him with it??? idk, but it's here, so is bondage)

She has him restrained. He looks so lovely, his naked body contorting as she fucks his ass with the dildo. His skin is flushed and he has a sheen of sweat on him from how she's been using him. She isn't even undressed. Still has her tank top and her sleep shorts on. Kneeling between his legs as she pumps the artificial cock in and out of him, watching him, as Peter pants and moans and whines and writhes. So utterly helpless. He strains against the handcuffs, his back arching off the bed, his chest heaving, squirming as he impaled himself back down on the dildo in her hands. He has such a slutty, wanton look on his face. His lips are hanging open, breathing ragged breaths, making those needy vocalizations when the appendage inside of him grazed his prostate.

She pivots her wrist, twisting the lubed up toy as it moves in and out of him, and Peter shouts at the feeling.

"Oh, g... gah... G'mora, please," Peter whimpers, begging, his whole body shaking. He's desperately fucking himself back down on the cock she's controlling. Panting and heaving, lost in the feeling. His body twisting and contorting as she fucks him.

She would be impressed if he could even remember his own name right now. Saying hers was no small feat. Of course, there's a more than likely chance that he doesn't even remember his own name right now, doesn't remember who he is, and the only thing he knows right now is her name.

Peter cries out when she starts pounding the dildo out of him, with such a force that he's almost lifted off the bed. He doesn't know anything other than the feeling inside of him. He tries to clamp his legs shut, but they too are restrained, keeping him spread eagle, but she can see him try to jerk his legs together, his thighs tense and shaking, desperate to gain some control over that movement and keep the dildo inside of him. But he can't. That doesn't stop him from weakly trying though as she fucks him. Into the bed. Doesn't stop him from crying out in pleasure either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, guys, I _told_ you! I told you the first chapter was starting out light.
> 
> Also, ty for the comments, they fill my hear with joy, also why this second chapter has been posted within 24 hours ♥


	3. Struggle

She likes the way it makes him strain. When he's handcuffed to the headboard. And she fingers him. She likes the way his body contorts, how fast his breathing gets, ragged and helpless and weak. She likes the way he whines and pants, how he moans, all those little desperate whimpering and whining noises he makes. She likes how, when she finger blasts him in the ass he whines like a bitch in heat. How his legs scramble, trying to get further up the bed, pushing his body away by digging his heels into the bed, how he can't really back away or sit up thanks to the handcuffs that are connected to the wall above their bed. That doesn't stop him from trying. From violently squirming away like it's too much and not enough, panting and whimpering as he tries to fuck back against her fingers too. She likes how his vocal breaths get higher and higher, restrained and uselessly scrambling as she finger fucks him hard and fast. She likes how his wrists are always red afterwards, from the struggle.


	4. Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bite kink. 'nuff said.

As her lips moved over his jugular, Peter just hoped she didn’t bite him.

Gamora’s teeth were sharp as shit- that he knew. He’d seen the type of damage they could do. Plus, Terrans had much thinner skin than Zehobereis, so she could take a lot more than he could. Gamora had thicker skin than him, literally.

He became a little less concerned about that as she dragged her mouth down his chest, circling his nipple with her tongue before latching on, and Peter realized he didn’t care. He couldn’t think about anything other than how good she looked, how good she felt, how much he wanted her. So bad.

* * *

She soon returned to his neck, and he was so fucking fine with that. How much she seemed to like that, and he tilted his head back to give her more room, gripping her hip and holding on tight for grounding.

Gamora was kissing and sucking on his throat again when she bit him. And he was right.

She probably didn’t mean to bite him that hard- if this was her, she would’ve barely been able to feel something like that.

But he didn't have thick Zehoberei skin, and she just bit him as hard as she would have done with another member of her species, but he didn't have thick skin to protect from sharp teeth when fucking mating and aggressively tearing at each other. So Gamora bit him, and it hurt.

Peter cried out in pain, his hand flying to his neck. She'd left fucking puncture marks! Grooves in his skin, indentations from her long canines, and when he pulled his hand away he was honestly surprised that there wasn't any blood on it.

Gamora looked surprised, slightly confused, by his reaction to what she thought was a mild bite, regarding him almost with curiosity.

Damn, he knew she would bite him too hard. Totally called that.

There was only one thing he didn't expect.

How his cock jumped when she bit him, like the pain went straight to it and got him all _excited_.

Shit, he did not expect how much his dick would like him getting bitten.

“Everything alright?” She asked, still uncertain of if there was a problem, what his reaction meant.

Peter nodded, exhaled, and made a decision. “Do that again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did u not know? Gamora = ferret


	5. Clipped wings

His eyes were glazed over in pure lust, in an aroused haze of a state, so needy, the very picture of submissive.

Peter on his knees, on the ground. His chest was flushed red, the muscles of his back bunched together as his wrist were bound behind him, shoulders held back like clipped wings.

He’d been in the same position for some time. She also had his legs tied together, behind him. The ropes around his torso secured to the wall and floor kept him in place. The cock ring gripped him tight, secured to his balls with rope that was a little thinner than what the rest of his body was caught in. All tied up. Looking up at her through half lidded eyes.

The ball gag in his mouth kept him quiet, drool spilling from his lips that struggled to wrap around the almost too big apparatus. He’d been in the same position so long his drool was dripping onto the floor now.

He was breathing heavily through his nose, likely would have been panting if his mouth wasn’t full.

She liked him like this. The glazed over eyes, the lewd expression on his face, the utter acceptance of it. A slave to pleasure. Used. Broken with desire, needing more so much that nothing else mattered.

“Oh Peter,” she said, walking over to him, voice dripping with false sympathy.

He lifted his head up, the rest of his body falling, sinking that much deeper. He blinked, slowly, still drooling as he looked up at her.

When she removed the gag, it left his lips hanging wide open, all the saliva built up immediately spilling from his mouth.

And when Gamora kissed him, his response was weak, just letting her take him. Like his whole body was weak, exhausted, drained. Almost limp. Tired and weak and completely giving in. Utterly fucked out and fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be my favorite one


	6. Fantisies + jacking off in the shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-relationship guilty masturbation fantasies

He knows he shouldn't. Gamora is his team member, and his friend. And yeah, okay, maybe he kinda liked her as more than a friend.

But still, masturbating to one of his shipmates was so- he knows he shouldn't. He's slept with a lot of attractive people over the years, all of them which would be much more appropriate for him to fantasize about when he was jacking off.

But it always comes back to Gamora.

Eventually, he stops fighting it, rationalizing that it's better to get those thoughts out in the shower than have them clouding his head in the middle of battle.

Especially when she was taking point and calling all the shots- using that authoritative tone and coordinating their team with an unrivaled efficiency and keeping everyone moving and them stick to the plan.

He imagines her using that tone on him in private.

The water is hot, but it's not the heat rising up from it that has his cheeks going red right now.

He's half hard already, to the point where it's like might as well.

Peter wraps his fingers around his cock  slowly stroking himself.

He imagines they're Gamora's fingers. 

No, no, wait. He imagines her  _ ordering  _ him to jack off in front of her, watching him with those disapproving, critical eyes.

He imagines her criticizing his technique,  saying “Really, Peter, it's like you're not even trying. I'm gonna have to show you the right way to do it.”

He imagines her pushing him against the wall after helping his drunk ass get home. Saying he needs to be able to concentrate and focus, and if he's gonna get so distracted by how long it's been since his last one night stand, then she was gonna take him. Forcing him up against the wall, pulling his cock out, and jerking him off onto the floor so he could stop thinking with his dick and start using his head.

Peter’s hand tightens around himself, moving faster as he pictures her face, Gamora making him look her in the eyes as she just utterly owns him, takes him without question, and he just lets her have him, whatever she-

He comes with a gasp, slamming his hand against the wall to hold himself up or something. He lets his head fall forward, the hot spray of the shower pounding into his back as he comes down.

_ Fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble originally started out as part of my fill for a Gamora/Peter kinkmeme prompt, but I ended up putting it here instead. You can read that actual fic right [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18263846)


	7. Intoxicating

She finds everything about him intoxicating.

His higher internal body heat- how his skin always manages to radiate warmth in a way that should be uncomfortable, but instead draws her into him. His scent. She swears he even smells warm. But there's much more too. That instantly recognizable Peter Quill scent that she'd never admit to but loves being surrounded with. She likes that his clothes smell like him.

When she steals one of his jackets she's surrounded by the familiar and comforting smell of Peter and it always subconsciously puts her at ease, and makes her want to pull the jacket up over her nose and inhale deeply. She likes the smell of her Terran. It's... stronger when he sweats, whether from a workout or a long fight, and it makes her want to taste him. That heady musk that's a mix of something rugged, something sexy, something sweet, and something tempting. It's irresistible. And there's something that's just so uniquely Peter that makes her mouth water. Intoxicating. Spell binding.

His skin should feel too hot, but it doesn't. His fingers are just the right temperature to set her body on fire. It should feel like overheating every time she lays next to him, but she can't get away from his heat, doesn't want to.

He's so warm.

She wants to lap it all up, like licking flames into fire, curling around him, igniting something that burns deep and long, set ablaze something that will never die out. Desire. Need. She wants to work him up, fuel this desperation.

She wants to burn brighter with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just putting this here cause I've really got nowhere else to put it


	8. Shower sex + pain kink + aftercare

She wants to be pissed at him for doing that. For scaring her so bad. For making her think she lost him. She wants to punch him first thing when she sees his scraped up face after she thought he just died. But instead, she patches up his wounds. She very much wants to threaten him to never do something like that ever again. She wants to hit him first thing, he scared her so bad. 

But she doesn't. Instead, she fucks him. As a punishment. That night. She fucks him hard and rough. Leaves bite marks all over his body. To teach him a lesson. He's already covered in bruises, but she knows he won't refuse a rough fucking. That's kinda the point.

* * *

She's tried distancing herself before, from him, after he gets injured so seriously, but it never worked. So instead she gets close to him. Gets intimate with him. And fucks him hard, making him moan in pleasure and groan in pain.

* * *

Peter thought he'd be in the dog house that night, not getting fucked in the shower

But that's exactly what happened. 

Gamora stripped him down and shoved him in none too nicely before the water had even heated up, following soon behind him. It wasn't until she was fully naked in the shower with him and grabbing his dick that he fully grasped what was going on. The water's warm by now, and she's not gentle as she shoves him up against the tiles, and Peter's pressed against the wall, bruises littering his chest and he heaves labored breaths as she jacks him off. Making him whine and squirm. And he's arching his back against the wall, powerless, and helpless. And so delicious.

* * *

But Peter looked… indescribable. Being assaulted by the hot water pounding his skin into a bright red under the shower spray, the flush on his face and chest, the red that had covered his shoulders, went down his back, bloomed on his ass as the heated water just came down on him and filled the room with steam. Then his face started getting red for an all too different reason.

He was already flushed pink and red under the flow of the water and steam, but now he was flushed and panting and whining, something that she could credit all to herself.

Whining in part because it felt good, and in part because it hurt. She knew he had to be sore. Just the burning water had to hurt on his aching muscles. Certainly getting fucked in the shower wasn't doing him any favors.

That was kinda the point. Because she knew he wouldn't refuse. She knew that he wouldn't  _ want  _ to refuse, even if it was hard on his body that was more sensitive and vulnerable after all that damage from today. He still wouldn't even want to refuse her advance in the shower. He'd want her to fuck him however she liked.

So now he was moaning two parts in pain and one part in pleasure as she forced him up against the bathroom wall as they were under the spray of the hot water. Peter moaned once she forced him up against the wall, and if it hurt to press him into it, he certainly wasn't complaining.

She wanted to hurt him, but she wasn't cruel. She still took the time to uncap the lube they kept right next to the shampoo bottles, spreading it on her fingers. His legs were already shaking when she started circling his hole. 

Peter gasped when she pushed in, working him open further and further, bit by bit. She wasn't rough as she worked her fingers inside of him, but she wasn't particularly caring either. Efficient. She focused her desire to hurt him on how exactly she had him pinned against the wall with the rest of her body, biting the blossoming bruise on his shoulder and making him whimper while she got him adequately prepped.

The whole reason she had joined him in the shower wearing nothing but the strap on was so she could fuck him against the wall rough and hard. And she was planning on doing exactly that.

Peter sighed, quivering at the loss of her fingers, leaning his forehead against the wall, not daring to move even when she let him go and took both her hands off of him.

She made quick work of lining up her cock, positioning herself behind him, grabbing his ass cheeks and kicking his legs open to spread them in a more vulnerable position.

Peter gasped, trying not to slip, even though Gamora would've caught him. He felt infinitely more exposed, like this, with his ass out, and that only proved to be valid when she pushed her cock inside him, meeting little resistance as she pushed past his entrance. After she had gotten it a third of the way in, Gamora thrusted up, burying inside him to the hilt with one firm, unforgiving stroke.

“ _ A- ah,”  _ Peter tried to grab onto the walls, which didn't really work, his palms landing flat against them as he squirmed at the new, intruding member inside of him.

Without warning Gamora literally swept him off his feet, lifting him up into the air, holding onto his legs and impaling him against the wall. Because she really was planning on fucking him up against the wall. 

She didn't wait either. No, once she had him pinned against the wall right where she wanted him, Gamora started fucking him at a brutal pace, pushing him against the wall so hard it hurt.

Peter whined and squirmed, panting and helpless as she fucked him like this.

All the bruises and injuries he'd accrued that day hurt so bad against the bathroom tile. His whole body was sore, and every part of him ached to be pressed this hard against such a cruel surface. And she kept fucking into him harder and harder, fucking him into the wall harder and harder.

Peter gasped and moaned, twisting in her arms, only succeeding in getting his prostate struck by the head of her strap on as his legs jerked uselessly in the air. 

He was hard now, would love to hump the wet shower tiles in front of him, but Gamora was still holding him in the air, so he didn't have any leverage to rub his hips up against the wall right now.

As such he was just squirming, and Gamora tightened her grip on his thighs, holding him hard enough to form bruises, over the bruises he already had.

“Puh-puh-please,” Peter moaned, his voice sounding so slutty, like a desperate whore who needed to he used.

“What?” Gamora growled, pounding into him, biting the back of his neck.

Peter tried to respond, but his mouth was just hanging open, eyes squeezed tight, just surrendering to this rough fuck as she violated his hole, his body screaming out in pain under the spray of the hot water, under this rough usage when what he really needed was bedrest to make everything stop hurting for a few days.

But he didn't dare tell her to stop. Didn't dream of it.

He wasn't sure exactly what he was begging for, just that it was more. More of this. More of something.

Every muscle of his was so sore after the battle today, could use a break, an ice pack. Instead Gamora was pounding into him under the shower spray, so hot it burned, and he couldn't stop panting and whining with every stroke she gave him.

Pointlessly squirming in the air, feeling so helpless as she fucked his hole ruthlessly, slamming into him, making him cry out and whimper and keen, writhing in her arms.

He felt so useless, powerless, unable to even set his feet on the ground, Gamora's fingers digging into his thighs as she kept his legs up and open, kept him spread as his groin was pushed flush to the wall, still trying to wriggle in her arms because he couldn't help it, wanting to fuck the wall as she fucked him.

He had so many cuts and scrapes and bruises that made just showering so painful, not even including the roughly fucked against the wall thing.

His legs were shaking.

“G-Gamora, please,” he said, so fucking weak and desperate for it, almost sobbing when she hit his prostate again and again.

“Please,” he whispered weakly, just giving up.

And that's when she really started fucking him with no mercy, and Peter actually screamed, an orgasm so powerful being ripped from his body he might've actually blacked out for a second.

* * *

Gamora gently lowered him down to his feet, and he almost immediately collapsed to the ground, legs giving out and unable to support himself at all. 

Almost. But Gamora caught him. She caught him and held him up, her arms looping under his as she wrapped them around his back, holding him up completely so all of his body weight was resting on her.

Peter's head fell to the crook of her neck as she kept him up and supported. He was crying. Sobbing, really.

She shushed him, patting his back, comforting her crying boy. “Shh sh sh, there there. You're alright, Peter. You've got it, baby. I've got ya.”

* * *

Gamora turned off the water, helping him out of the shower on unsteady feet. She laid a towel on the closed toilet seat and sat him down on it, telling him to stay put while she went to get more towels that they could actually get dry with.

Before returning she removed the strap on and left it on the dresser, planning on properly cleaning it in the morning. Right now she was taking care of Peter.

She came back, arm full of towels, to him in the exact same position she left him in, staring at the floor, blank faced, and still crying.

Gamora kneeled in front of him, using the softest towel to dry his face with soft, gentle strokes. She carefully dried his hair, leaving that towel on top of his head while she grabbed another to dry the rest of his body.

It had been awhile, since he'd had one of these. The sobbing orgasms/crying so hard during sex it almost broke him. But they were familiar enough that she knew this was nothing to be alarmed about (the first time they did the rough sex with a sobbing orgasm thing and he got all quiet afterward- it had freaked her out, cause she thought something was seriously wrong, and it was her fault, and that she- she hurt him, emotionally or something).

Now, she knew he was okay, he just needed to be taken care of.

She once asked him, out of curiosity, what the- the appeal was. What was going on behind him getting all subdued and blank, what he was feeling, why he did that, asked him what was behind that- that process.

She asked him why he always went so quiet and blank afterwards.

Peter said it made him feel small- in a good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and added a bit to the last chapter (chapter 7 “Intoxicating”) because I realized I had been working on that drabble in two different places, one in my Short but not Sweet sexual drabbles document and also in a separate just general gotg drabbles document, and the second one had a longer version, so it used to end at the “but she can’t get away from his heat, doesn’t want to.” part, but I fixed it to the longer edition the other day, so it now has a better, more solid ending too.


	9. Touch

She's discovered that Peter loves being touched. Not just in the normal sex feels good way.

He's so damn sensitive. Every time she presses into him, her body into his, runs her hand along his skin, up and down his body- there's always a reaction, pressing into her, bucking against her, moaning, squirming, whining- he always reacts.

He's so easily overwhelmed into passivity. Into letting her do what she wants, forgetting he even has a voice to do anything other than beg her, whisper her name. He's so sensitive to the touch and so easily reduced to whimpers grinding her hips against his. To where he's actually quiet for more than a moment, not making any jokes, or smart aleck remarks, no clever comebacks or call backs, no snarky expression on his face or a challenge in his eyes. No, the only thing in his eyes is unbridled want and need. As he moves against her, moves _for_ her.

She runs her hands up his arms and he arches into her, his head falling to the side, exposing his throat to her, and she wastes no time latching on. Her lips barely grazing the nape of his neck brought out the most delicious sounds.

And she loves how his eyes would flutter closed just from a well placed brush of her fingers. How sensitive he was to _her_ touch.

There’s nothing quite like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have some starmora smut prompts you wanna see you can hit me up at disruptedvice on tumblr and drop and anonymous prompt request  
> Or just leave one in the comments here
> 
> I want some starmora smut prompts so baaaaaadddddd

**Author's Note:**

> I am so thirsty for comments


End file.
